My Dad's Twin
by Socially Awkward Bunny
Summary: .:ON HIATUS / BEING REWRITTEN BECAUSE WRITING IS AWFUL AND THE AUTHOR KNOWS THAT:. Dad was going to tell me eventually, I know. He simply never found the right time to tell me, I know. He was trying to, but couldn't. I know. But I think accidentally meeting his twin during my first year of Hogwarts wasn't quite the best way for me to find out about Fred Weasley, the First.
1. Trouble On The First Day

Hi there. :D First HP fanfic, I dunno if anyone's done the same storyline. Hope not. I'm not English, but I may use words such as bloke or mate. o_o Tell me when it gets unbearable. Long notes that explain some stuff are in my profile, just look for the section near the bottom.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. Anything recognizably from the HP world is owned by JK Rowling.

**REWRITTEN: 3/12/13. ****Things have been changed! Former readers, I suggest you skim.  
**

* * *

"Freddie Weasley, stop right there!"

Fred froze in mid-step. The eleven-year-old redhead let out an anxious huff of air and eased his cart to a stop on the busy platform, wondering if he should have just continued on and pretended he hadn't heard. He turned around reluctantly, attempting to project an air of casual innocence.

His gaze settled on the warm cocoa skin tones of his mother. "Mum!" Fred half-laughed, forcing himself not to wring his hands nervously. He shifted slightly to the left and saw his nine-year-old sister behind her. Roxanne had her dark-haired head tilted inquisitively, with her lips quirked into a knowing smile full of mischief.

Fred tried not to scowl at her, feeling infinitely more nervous. Roxanne was smart for her age, and knew him well enough to know when he was up to something. Like right now.

"Have you got everything? Your owl, your books?" Angelina Weasley's warm brown eyes roamed over her son's cart. Fred tried to look as angelic as possible, but that trick usually worked for Roxanne and James more, Roxanne with her sweet, eye-crinkling smile and James with his patented I Am Most Charming grin.

Fred looked as much like George as James looked like Uncle Harry, which made people, especially store owners, eye him with suspicion every time he shared candy with their children or got too near to a breakable object. It made him wonder what his father had done that they'd be suspicious of even his children.

Fred shifted, hoping to Merlin that Angeline hadn't noticed the extra bag squeezed in the cart. He had hidden it behind his trunk, but maybe her all-knowing maternal gaze had caught onto it somehow. He inched his body to the side, trying to look inconspicuous while doing so.

Fred had probably failed, because his mother was staring at him expectantly, as if he should up and confess right then and there. He almost did, and tearfully at that, before realizing she was simply waiting for an answer. He had to stop himself from smacking his forehead and exclaimed fervently, "Yes, yes, everything's fine and dandy! You've checked my things four times last night too, if you don't remember."

It was a good thing she hadn't checked this morning, or else his plans with James for today would have gone down the drain.

"Hmm." Angelina looked at him with her eyebrows raised, her way of telling him that she noticed something was up. Frankly, Fred rambled in his mind, if his mother hadn't noticed his strange behavior by now, he would have seriously wondered about her. "You look jittery today."

"Me? Jittery?" Fred squawked, his mind racing for a completely believable reason why he was nervous. "Of course not, I mean it's _only _the very first day of my very first year at _Hogwarts_, you know! I mean, who'd be nervous about that?"

Roxanne's grin grew even wider.

Muttering something about how what he had said was completely, undeniably true and that he really _was_ nervous about that particular thing and that he wasn't _lying_ or anything and how Roxanne should _stop _grinning like a_ creep_, Fred looked around wildly for a way to escape more questions that were jeopardous to his_ mission_.

He sucked in a breath of relief when he saw his favorite cousin making his way towards them. "Oh look, Mum! It's James!"

"Freddie! Weasley! Fred!" James skidded to a stop in front of them, grinning brightly, with his dark hair as disheveled as always. He marched to Fred, taking hold of his arm, and said dashingly to Angelina, "Hello, dear Auntie! Mind if I borrow Freddie for a bit?"

Angelina smiled fondly at him and nodded. "Don't get in trouble now, you hear me?"

Fred rolled his eyes in a way that could have given his Aunt Hermione a run for her money, feeling more confident now that a better actor was near. "Uh huh."

James nodded vigorously, his eyes shining. "We'll get in no trouble!" He leaned towards Fred and whispered through the corner of his mouth, "If we're lucky."

Fred grinned at him and pushed his cart off the platform. James led him to a compartment near the middle of the Express, where he had already unloaded his items. He grabbed the cage of Fred's dozing owl, Alma, setting it down rather roughly. Alma hooted, disgruntled, waking up from her nap. Fred made a face at James as he dragged his trunk up the steps and inside the small compartment.

As Fred put his trunk in the corner, James stuck his head out the compartment door, making sure nobody was near enough to hear them. Fred raised his eyebrows dubiously, thinking, as if anybody could stop James and him when they both got going. James slammed the door and turned around, satisfied. "Have you got everything?" he asked, his boyish voice eager.

If he were any more excited, Fred mused thoughtfully, he'd be bouncing up and down.

Then he nodded, holding up a black rucksack with a flourish. "Nicked directly from Dad's storage room!" he declared proudly. He loosened the string with a wide grin and let James bask in the glow of all the pranking materials at their possession.

"Directly?" James stared at the bag and then back at him incredulously. "How'd you get through the―"

"Heh," Fred said a bit guiltily, scratching the back of his head. "Let's not talk about that." And they would never, ever talk about that, he vowed silently.

James peered at him shrewdly, saying in a commanding voice, "Tell me, Fred. Tell me now!"

Fred smirked back triumphantly. "You're not wearing Rose's spectacles. That look won't work on me, James."

James huffed in chagrin and said, "You're just intimidated by her and her glasses of doom. If I had her face you'd cow."

"Honestly James, if _you_ had her face, I would be very scared."

James sighed loudly, sounding very put upon, and tugged on Fred's arm. "Ready for this, mate?"

Fred took a minute to answer as he considered whether to tell the truth. "No," he admitted. "This is the biggest thing we've ever done―"

"Bigger than the Diagon Alley frog explosion?" James asked incredulously. "You can't mean that!"

"Okay, very nearly the biggest thing we've ever done," Fred amended. "And don't forget Albus almost died that time."

James snickered. "No, you thought he was dying."

"He swallowed one! For all I knew it closed off his air pipe or something!" Fred exclaimed. Then he sat down petulantly, letting James hold on to the rucksack. "Mum's going to kill me for this. I'll be grounded for weeks!" He scrunched up his eyebrows, disgruntled as he contemplated his mother's reaction to what they were about to do. Torn between his life or his fun. Life or fun, life or fun..

It really was hard to choose.

James smacked his shoulder lightly, smiling. "Think of Uncle George, Freddie! He'll mellow her out just fine."

Fred seemed to be mulling it over, but he was smiling. "Right."

* * *

Minutes later, Fred and James hopped down the train steps with matching, wicked grins. Just as they caught sigh of Fred's family, screams and shouts erupted from behind them. They glanced at each other with delighted expressions and walked faster.

Fred's mother whipped around from her conversation with George, her hands flying to her chest when she saw a few girls run out of the Express covered in sticky slime and screaming bloody murder. A magically enhanced rubber bat kept swinging around, unmercifully whacking people. Rubber snakes slithered in and out of the train windows, and a boy came out, yelling obscenities, covered in rubber spiders.

Fred could hear Roxanne laugh and say something about Uncle Ron. His dad was speaking in a stunned and vaguely amused tone, "That's― It's― Those're mine!"

Angelina's eyes landed on her son.

"Ah, Mum!" Fred smiled sunnily at her, looking for all the world as innocent as could be. He didn't feel guilty about lying now that it was very obvious he was one of the culprits, and thus was easily playing his part.

Why, Freddie Weasley? About yea high, freckled face, red hair? No, he had nothing to do with the commotion behind him. Nothing!

"Fred, is this your doing?" Angelina asked Fred, very slowly.

"Have you pranked the entire train?" Roxanne asked with a bright grin, her expression a mixture of amusement and pride. It seemed to her that there was no way on earth that he couldn't have done it, and Fred felt very self-satisfied at that. But then he blinked, realizing that they weren't even blaming the person smugly smiling next to him.

"James is right here, you two! He's obviously the guilty one here, look, just look at his face!"

"My face looks perfectly fine," James said loftily, pretending to look affronted. "And it could've been anyone!"

"You're right," Fred said, looking horrified. "It could have been―" He pointed at Roxanne. "Dad!" He gasped in betrayal.

"Or Roxanne!" James pointed at Angelina.

"Even Mum!" Fred pointed at George.

They glanced at each other and barely restrained from cackling.

"Oh, you two―!"

George laid his hand on Angelina's shoulder, interrupting her incoming tirade with a lopsided grin. She paused for a bit, taking in his expression. Fred beamed at his father's grin, James smiled at Fred, and George turned to both of them. "I take it that nobody saw you do this?"

They shook their heads earnestly.

"Good job, boys!"

"George!" Fred's mum gasped, but it seemed to the boy that she wasn't angry anymore. She glanced at Fred with a knowing look, one that made his smile falter for a few seconds. But then he kept smiling and pretended not to notice, listening to his dad talk about how he'd made some of the pranks.

"Now, your Uncle Ron, he's been afraid of spiders for as long as I can remember. When w― When I was thirteen, I'd made the first ever Spider Scrabbler for the Creepy Crawlies collection, and.."

Fred looked happily on as his dad go on, his face lighting up as he reminisced about Uncle Ron's reaction to the Spider Scrabbler gone haywire during George's third year.

The reason why Fred was so happy was because his father, in general, was a quiet and reserved person. Fred always did his best to cheer him up, to get a laugh or a smile or _anything _from his dad, instead of that awful strained expression George frequently wore.

Sometimes, during one of George's more bad days, Fred received a parody of a smile so wobbly even Roxanne looked like she wanted to blurt out jokes. Fred had realized long ago that, during spontaneous moments of making pranks and laughter, George seemed more alive, more genuine. More like a person, and more like a father.

Fred practically lived for the times like those, when he was _real_. His mother understood that, somehow, which was why he got away with most of what he did with only a stern word or two.

George checked his watch, raising his eyebrows. "Hm. It's almost time for you two to go."

Angelina looked at James with a smile. "Have you said goodbye to your family?"

James nodded. "Three times, in fact. I kept running into them when I was looking for your son over here." He nudged Fred on the arm, smirking a little. Fred nudged back, still grinning like a goof.

Angelina gently pushed Fred's sister towards their direction. Roxanne ran to hug James, then Fred. "I'll be sure to keep them laughing while you're gone, promise," Roxanne whispered as Fred pulled away from her embrace.

He couldn't help but chuckle brightly. "Good luck with that."

She scrunched up her eyes in a youthful smile and stepped back to their parents.

"Well.." Fred looked at them. "Bye!" He hugged his mum and dad quickly, though he hugged George harder. "T-Take care, okay?" Fred looked up at him worriedly. He hoped Roxanne would keep her promise.

George hugged back, placing a kiss on his son's head before the boy could move away. "Yep."

* * *

"Will you stop that? We're almost at Hogwarts, and you choose to start worrying _now_," James said irritably, lying on the red seat across from Fred. He had his head propped up on his hands, not bothering to take his gaze away from the scenic view outside the window. His feet were hanging off the edge of the bench.

In the back of Fred's mind, he thought sourly that if Auntie Gin or his mum were here James would have been scolded about his position. "

You're _not _going to be in Slytherin, alright?" James said lazily, not at all reassuring.

"I.. It's just.. What if I get sorted _into Slytherin?_" Fred made a face and swiped a Chocolate Frog from the table between them. "Do you know what Teddy says?" He bit his lip, watching as an exasperated expression flitted across James' face, and continued. "Teddy says I'll be in Gryffindor. But he said it in such a curious way! His face- you should have seen it, James. It was so ominous, I kept bothering him until he told me that maybe, just maybe, I'll get into Slytherin! Because I'm sly with my pranks and all that. You know?"

James snorted dubiously, his gaze still fixed on the window. "Freddie, I'm your partner in crime. If he used that reason, Teddy practically said _I'd_ get into Slytherin too."

Fred blinked. James, in Slytherin? He couldn't even imagine him in a House other than Gryffindor. But.. "James. James. Oh, Merlin! What if I _do _get into Slytherin? And what if you get into Gryffindor? We'll be separated! I'm going to go mad!"

To this, he gave Fred a disbelieving grunt.

Fred stared long and hard at him, until James finally cracked and looked up at him with a glare. "Freddie," he said in an imperious tone. "I think _I'm _going mad. Really. Close you mouth, and don't open it until I tell you to. Oh, but don't forget to breathe."

Fred glared at James, but didn't bother to tell him that what he had been saying the past half-hour was as true as it could possibly get. Fred really was worried.

It wasn't that Fred hated the House of Slytherin; he actually had a sneaking suspicion that his younger cousin Albus was going to get sorted into that House. But as they neared Hogwarts, Fred couldn't help but think of the horror he would feel if the Hat managed to sort him into it.

He had met a number of children of ex-Slytherins and had found them creepy, with their weirdly mature smiles. It was as if they thought they knew more than him about things, which didn't make sense, because lots of them were younger than him. He remembered one of them saying to him breezily, "I can't really belong anywhere except with my own. Everyone else just doesn't seem welcoming enough."

Maybe Fred thought that too, except with Gryffindors.

"Nyah, nyah, look I didn't close my mouth," Fred said childishly towards James, finally ripping open the Chocolate Frog and stuffing it into his mouth before it could get away. He chewed on it loudly, smacking his lips. Fred could tell it disturbed James so he grinned, his mouth gaping wide.

"Warth womf?" Fred asked, holding out some to his cousin.

To his surprise, James sat up and grabbed one from his hand with a glint in his eye. He started munching on it as loudly as Fred did, if not louder. Their eyes met and their shoulders shook in silent laughter.

The train lurched, causing a boy to stumble backwards into the compartment. Fred was so startled, he choked on his chocolate, and James laughed at him so hard he started choking as well. The boy took one bewildered look at the pair, gaping chocolate mouths and all, and jumped out of the room.

That sent the duo into another fit of chokes and laughter.

After Fred had calmed down and swallowed all of his Chocolate Frog, he settled himself more comfortably onto the red plush of his seat. Something gleamed on the floor near the door as he did and caught his eye. He pushed himself off the bench and tilted his head towards it. "James, mate, that yours?"

James, munching on his second Frog, shifted on the bench to get a better look. He turned incredulously raised eyebrows toward his cousin, and swallowed his chocolate. "I didn't bring a shiny, feminine necklace, as you should very well know. Or are you trying to tell me something?"

Fred grinned and snatched it up. It was an antique locket, made of all silver. The chain was thin, delicate, but as Fred turned it around in his hand, he had a feeling that it was stronger than it looked. The locket itself was oval in shape, with a strange latch on the side. "Maybe the bloke who fell in dropped it."

James looked interestedly at the locket. "Wanna see inside?"

"What? We should give it back.."

"Come on, you never know what kind of pictures are in these things. And maybe it's just a picture of himself, which would help, you know. Do you even remember what he looks like?" James wheedled.

Fred paused for a second, then shrugged. James had a point. Kind of. He started to fumble with the latch, if it could be called that, and narrowed his eyes in concentration. It was brass and old-looking, and seemed like a turn key that someone would find on a wind-up toy. There were two hooks that looped through a small hole and held tightly on the turn key. Fred couldn't open it right away, trying to pry the hooks off it. James made an impatient noise.

Finally, it was unlocked, but Fred didn't really know how he got it to open. He raised his eyebrows in disbelief when he looked inside. It was empty. "All _that_ for nothing. My fingertips are still stinging!"

James tilted his head, frowning slightly in disappointment before noticing something. "Something's engraved on it."

True enough, right above the slot where the picture should have been, three words were inscripted in dainty cursive. "Ire adcum scire.." Fred read out loud. James grabbed Fred's hand to pull the locket from his grasp and have a look himself.

A beat of silence passed, when not even the sounds of the train reached their ears. They had only glanced at each other before a blinding flash of golden light engulfed the whole room, making Fred yelp and crash backwards into James. They stumbled, and Fred heard something suddenly rip, loud enough to be right next to his ear. He could only hope it wasn't James' robes, or else he would have to go to school with them flapping in the wind, his boxers in sight.


	2. An Interrupting Sort Of Hat

**REWRITTEN: 3/15/13. ****Things have been changed (though not much)! Former readers, I suggest you skim.  
**

If you read some familiar things, well― I took some excerpts from HPSS, heh.

* * *

"Ugh.." Fred scrambled off James.

"By Gwydion! Freddie, what have you been eating?" James sat up, looking more ruffled than usual. He rubbed his back, shooting a sore look at Fred.

Fred whipped his head from side to side, trying to spot any differences in their surroundings. "That was strange, you have to admit."

James nodded, looking around the red and purple compartment in suspicion. "What was that about, d'you think? Nothing happened.." He tried to find anything off, scouting the room in caution. Their items were still in the same places they'd left them in, nothing was abnormally colored, and their various sweet wrappers had remained unmoved. Alma and James' owl Jannes were still there, their wide, intelligent eyes searching the room as well.

Fred jumped up and tried to look if he had sprouted any extra limbs. Nope. He looked at James, but he seemed pretty normal. _Well, _Fred thought wryly, as normal as James could get, anyway. "What was that light for, I wonder?"

James shrugged and picked up the locket. Then he pointed accusingly at Fred. "If anything happens because you were stupid enough to read a spell out loud, so help me.."

"That's a bit unfair. I wasn't even holding my wand, so how could've—"

"It could have been enchanted!" James dangled it between his fingers. "That flash of light did _something_. I know it."

"Maybe the locket was enchanted to make a flash of light?"

"Wow, that isn't useless or anything."

Fred thumped him on the back of his head.

* * *

People pushed their way toward the door and out on to a tiny, dark platform. The night was oddly cold. Fred shivered and rubbed his hands on his robes to warm himself. James made a strangled sort of noise when he started to do the same thing.

"What?" Fred whispered.

"Is it just me, or are my robes different?" James hissed in confusion.

Fred eyed him, and said doubtfully, "Am I supposed to say yes?"

"Your robes are different too!" James squawked.

Fred looked down, and blinked. Alright, they didn't look much different, but.. He raised an arm and it rubbed strangely on his skin. He ran his fingers on the area of his collar bone and realized, yes, that the design was slightly changed and the sleeves were longer.

Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and they heard a deep, accented voice: "Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" A man's big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads, and Fred perked up, and James wavered in glancing suspiciously at everyone. It was Hagrid! The man visited their houses all the time, occasionally with Madame Maxime. "C'mon, follow me ― any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

Slipping and stumbling, they followed the man down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that Harry thought there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much. James was giving everyone's robes wary stares and Fred was wondering if the locket did something to people's sanity. Maybe he should pickpocket it off of James and see if it made any difference.

"Ye' all get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

There was a loud "Oooooh!"

Even James seemed to snap out of his crazy, joining with an amazed "Ooh!" of his own.

Fred gazed in the direction of the school and stood there, stunned. Hogwarts was just as marvelous as the stories his mum and dad had told him, if not even better. The towers and turrets stood high and proud, looking incredibly close to the full moon above. The lake ahead twinkled and glittered, reflecting the lights in the windows and the glimmering starlight sprinkled overhead.

The gentle lapping of the lake and the excited murmurs of the other kids made Fred anxious to get into a boat and get to the other side of the lake already. He could imagine the Quidditch games, the feasts. He could already taste all of the meals of creamy delicious goodness his older cousins had spoken about. Fred didn't know if they were exaggerating, but his mouth still watered.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore.

Fred pulled James along, who still looked dumbfounded. Sitting down in the boat Fred chose, James swayed a little before plunking himself down. "Freddie.. It's incredible! Amazing!"

"It is, isn't it?" The corners of Fred's mouth tugged upward. "Imagine actually living in there."

"Pranking there," James said dreamily.

Fred widened his eyes. "Yes, I forgot!" He slapped his forehead. "I _forgot__!_"

James' glazed, dark brown eyes suddenly cleared and he slapped Fred's forehead too. "Forgot? Never forget, you nutter!"

Two boys settled themselves in their boat, and they all smiled quickly at each other before returning to their own conversations.

"Nutter?" Fred shot back. "I wasn't the one who turned whacko because of robes!"

James suddenly turned very solemn, which made Fred nearly laugh. "The robes _are_ odd, I swear! They look different!"

Fred shrugged, "I guess they're itchy now and fit weirdly, James, but maybe that's something the," he lowered his voice, regarding the other boys in the boat, "something the locket did."

James looked dubious. "Everyone's robes are different too."

"Well..." Fred struggled for an explanation. "Maybe it changed everyone's on the train," he said slowly.

James snorted, but didn't say anything else.

The boats lurched forward at Hagrid's yell. Fred and James sat in silence, relishing the fact that they were really on their way to _Hogwarts_, the place that they had been hearing about their entire lives. Fred looked down into the dark, navy water and slid his fingers under the surface. It felt silky and cool, and the small ripples he made caused the reflections of the stars to stir.

James suddenly gave a giddy laugh that wasn't too far from maniacal. "Hope we get the same dorm. I'll die if we won't."

"There's a huge chance we won't," Fred said, frowning. "Aunt Hermione says our year's got a whole lot more students." He pulled his hand from the water, wiping it on his robe.

"Well, you can count on being in the same house."

"I wish," Fred mumbled. He shivered, although from the feeling of impending doom or the cold breeze that had gently blown through, he wasn't quite sure.

* * *

Soon the first years were all in an empty chamber in Hogwarts, being lectured by a tall, prim-looking witch whom Hagrid had called Professor McGonagall. James and Fred tried their best not to act like trouble-makers in front of her; their parents had told them that McGonagall was the Headmistress.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses..." She went on about how the houses of Hogwarts and how the points system worked. "The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

James ran a hand through his hair, which wasn't the best thing to do, because it made him look messier. Fred tugged at his robes a bit, then gave up and just watched the door.

When McGonagall came back, she led them to the Great Hall.

When the first years entered, many of them gawked. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them.

The lights of the candles flickered eerily on the faces of the students watching them and Fred gulped, because older students are always pretty scary. He tried to find Louis, Dominique, Victoire, and Molly for moral support, but he couldn't find them anywhere.

Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty, and some girls looked at it with pursed lips.

There was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth ― and the hat began to sing, which made incredulous smiles find their ways onto James and Fred's faces.

_First things first-_

_I am the Sorting Hat!_

_I'm here to find your perks_

_And where you'll fit best at_

_/_

_Will Gryffindor suit you well?_

_Are you daring, loyal, brave?_

_Oh the stories you'll get to tell_

_If it's adventures you crave!_

_/_

_You'll find that your thirst of knowledge_

_Will match those of your friends_

_Creative and witty you'll all be_

_If you, to Ravenclaw we send!_

_/_

_Slytherin calls for those_

_Who are cunning, bright, ambitious!_

_If you are pure that's where you'll go_

_Be proud of green and silver!_

_/_

_Kindness, patience, tolerance too,_

_Hufflepuff welcomes all!_

_You'll find the friends in there true_

_Fair're those whom Hufflepuff calls!_

_/_

_This year will be_

_Oh, you will see_

_Eventful and amazing_

_You'll meet friends, new and old_

_Some with stories so surprising!_

_/_

_Now we must go on_

_To sort all of you_

_Just come up here and fit me on_

_Don't worry, I don't bite_

_(I have no teeth, but if I had-_

_/_

_I might.)_

James and Fred glanced at each other, grinning at the last part.

The Sorting started.

Fred watched nervously for a few seconds, and looked at James. He patted him on the back. James was nervous, he could tell, from his fidgeting and tapping fingers. James jumped every time somebody's name was called.

Fred knew how he felt, thinking that he probably wasn't any better off himself. He was feeling jumpy too, cringing every time the Sorting Hat shouted out houses. Fred thought James noticed, because his cousin patted his back, too.

"SLYTHERIN!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

Each new housemate was received by cheers. No matter which house, the hollers, whoops, and cheers were deafening. Fred got more and more aggravated as time passed. After a few minutes which seemed like hours, the roll call was strangely interrupted by the Sorting Hat. "Jorda-"

"Potter, James Sirius!" It barked out. James jumped up.

A number of heads whipped around sharply. Murmurs erupted around the room, and Fred could see even a few teachers stare at his cousin in alarm and confusion.

"Potter?"

"As in, Harry Potter?"

"No, the hat said James.."

"But, it still said Potter!"

A bearded man looked calmly at James, though a twinkle of curiosity was present in his eyes.

"What in the world.." McGonagall looked mystified.

Fred looked at everyone in bewilderment. James' dad was Harry Potter, he knew, but did they have to stare at him so.. alarmingly? James looked uncomfortable, and even stared at Fred for a few seconds, but when he shook his head in equal puzzlement, he kept walking to the stool. James sat down and put on the hat.

Immediately, it shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

A smile grew on James' face as he took it off. He sat down at the edge of a bench at the loud, cheering (but still confused) Gryffindor table. Fred noticed that James made sure to save extra space for him. A few more people were called, but Fred didn't listen. He kept staring at the spot James had saved for him with all his might, hoping that, for sure, he would be there, right there, soon. Fred shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He couldn't be scared, because that isn't what Gryffindors do. He should be brave, daring.. "Cheese and crackers," Fred mumbled.

"Wea-" McGonagall started.

"Weasley, Fred!" The Sorting Hat cut her off again. McGonagall stared at the hat like it had gone loopy.

Fred almost stood up, but to his bewilderment, someone else jumped up with a huge smile on his face. His hair was a fiery red, like Fred's. He also had freckles, like Fred. Fred wondered if he was related to him, because he sure looked like it. Maybe he was a cousin he had never met? He settled on the stool, looking like he was trying with all his willpower to stop from bouncing in excitement. But as soon as he touched the Hat, it snapped at him, "No, not this Fred! The _other _one!"

The boy's (well, Fred supposed he should say _Fred's_) smile vanished, and he cocked his head in confusion. "Excuse me, sir.. err.. Hat. I don't think-"

"Weasley, Fred!" The Sorting Hat called again. "Come on now, don't be shy! I know you're out there, lad!"

The teachers were starting to stare at the hat in worry and suspicion.

Fred saw James jerking his head crazily. He took that as a sign that he should speak up. Fred shakily stood up and walked over to the stool. The boy looked at him, his mouth slightly open.

A boy who looked exactly like 'Fred' spoke up. "Blimey, Fred! He looks just like a Weasley!"

"I am one!" Fred cut in.

The other Fred laughed and got off the chair. He bowed with a flourish and held the Sorting Hat out to the other. "To you, my dear lady."

Fred took it and sat on the stool, no longer apprehensive. He placed the Sorting Hat on his head.

"Hmm," a voice whispered. Fred jerked back and looked around. The Sorting Hat was speaking? Was he the only one who could hear it? Was it telepathic? If that was the case..

_GRYFFINDOR GRYFFINDOR GRYFFINDOR GRYFFINDOR-_

"Yes, that. No need to demand, it's written in your genes, boy."

Fred felt a smile creep onto his face.

"Gryffindor!" The Sorting Hat called out. My new housemates cheered in warm welcome, James being the most enthusiastic. Fred could hear him shouting over to him as he came, "Told you, told you! Same house!" When Fred sat down, though, he instantly felt uncomfortable, the breathless excitement leaving in one swoop. James was wearing that familiar grin of his, one that told Fred that everything was great.

But his eyes told a different story, really.


	3. The Headmaster's Office

_Oho, you guys make me smile. I got followers and favorites! *giddy* No matter _how_ cloppy my sentences are, you guys still read. It's just- oh- ;o; _

_But yeah the chapter started out good and fresh and soaking with inspiration, but then my brother demanded to go on the laptop so I had to spend an hour staring at this thing called a TV, while the stories dwindled away from my head. _

_I'll be switching POV's in this story. Don't worry- it will probably be __mostly __between third person, Freddie, and James. __McGonagall is sooo OOC. I think. Her personality is hard. ;_; Dumbles was even harder to write._

* * *

I didn't listen to the words that the bearded man said after the Sorting ended. His message was quite quick, and I was too busy trying to get James to shut up and tell me what was wrong. He kept babbling on and on about Quidditch, the houses, the classes, and how he thought McGonagall was the one who was supposed to give the post-Sorting speech since she was the headmistress. I could tell he meant something by the last part, but I couldn't figure out what.

Suddenly, the table was filled with food. James took one look and and started scarfing down everything in his reach. Mashed potatoes, crispy turkey, pies, steak, he practically inhaled everything. I piled roast beef, pork chops, and beef casserole on my plate quickly, because if I didn't get them fast enough, James would take them all. I took a slice of shepherd's pie and a boiled potato for extra measure.

I took the opportunity to marvel at the ceiling. It was, I supposed, charmed or something, because I could see the dark sky outside. James finished first, though I don't know _how_ what with all his food. He waited until I had finished drinking my pumpkin juice before hissing something to me. I set my cup down. "What?"

"I told you, the locket did something."

"What did it do?" I asked.

He stared at me like I was really, really slow.

The food suddenly disappeared from the table. Then, right as James let out a gasp of disappointment, dessert appeared. "Freddie!" he exclaimed, munching on a jam doughnut. "Don't tell me you haven't noticed.."

I swiped a treacle tart and shook my head. "Even Aunt Hermione admitted there would be peculiarities.."

"Oh, come _on! _Fred Weasley? His twin, George Weasley?"

I cocked my head at him. "Twin? George Weasley?"

"You weren't listening? After you were sorted, that other Fred Weasley was called, then _George Weasley_ was called."

"Hey, same name as Dad!"

James bonked me on the head. "He _is _your father, you twat!"

It took me a minute to process. "My father," I repeated.

"Your father."

I could feel blood draining from my face. "You mean, the locket.."

"It sent us back in time. Did you see how they looked at me? Harry Potter is- is still a _child _right now, with that horrid _Dursley _family- or something."

I set my half-eaten treacle down and leaned to the side. The twins, who had also been sorted in Gryffindor, were howling and laughing like there was no tomorrow. After observing them for a few moments, I looked back at James. "I don't believe you," I stated.

He furrowed his eyebrows in disbelief. "You don't believe me."

"There is no, absolutely no way on earth- no, on this universe, that _my _dad, George Weasley, could laugh and smile like that," I told him. "Even if we went back in time."

It hurt to say it, and my stomach did a flop when I finally admitted my father's.. _depression_, but it was the truth. James' face contorted, and I could see he was torn whether to shake and slap me until I said he was right, or to hug me until I felt better.

Personally, I didn't want either. "Besides, James," I added quickly. "Dad doesn't have a twin."

* * *

"All right," the Head Boy of Gryffindor nodded at the group of first years. "Let's start with the boys dormitories.." He glanced at the parchment, frowning. "Jordan, Potter, Weasley, Weasley, Weasley... " He looked up and gazed at the five boys in confusion. "Potter.." he muttered. James cringed as he wondered how his and Fred's names even got on the parchment.

The Head Boy's eyes widened suddenly as he looked behind the group. "Oh! Professor McGonagall!"

Fred felt his heart sink. The boy had called McGonagall 'Professor', not 'Headmistress'. The eleven-year-old stole a glance at the twins, who, now that James had mentioned it, looked alot like his father. The more he looked, the more similarities he could find.

McGonagall, with her prim expression and cocked hat, walked briskly to the group. She let her eyes roam over the faces, until she settled on one. James.

"Fred Weasley, James.. Potter, please come with me." She beckoned at them with a slight jerk of her head.

Fred and James looked at each other apprehensively, then started behind McGonagall. James raised his eyebrows. "Do you think she knows?" he muttered quietly.

Fred eyed the tall, green-robed woman's back. "She suspects something, that's for sure."

"Should we..?"

"I think we should." Even if they weren't in the past, Fred was sure they should show someone the locket.

"Let's tell her now?"

Fred nodded. "Do you want to?"

"Professor!" James said loudly, in answer to Fred's question.

McGonagall stopped and turned around. "Mister Potter, I would appreciate it if you would be able to keep silent until you see the headmaster."

"Head_master_?" Fred's voice rose an octave. "As in.. Dumbledore?"

"And who else would it be, Mister Weasley?" Not waiting for a response, she continued leading them in silence until they stopped in front of a large, ugly gargoyle. "Meringue Tartlet," McGonagall said to the gargoyle.

The gargoyle stepped aside without saying a word, revealing a circular staircase. McGonagall gestured for them to go past. "I have business to attend to. The headmaster will be inside."

James and Fred gulped and started on the stairs, glancing a few times at the stone gargoyle. At the top, they found a large double door made of oak. They slowly pushed the door open, not sure what to expect.

The office was a circular room with many windows, the light which streamed through giving the room a golden, warm glow. Hanging on the walls were the many moving portraits of the headmasters and headmistresses of the past, murmuring. Fred looked at James, who blinked and said something about an astonishingly large collection of books. There was a number of spindly tables upon which were set delicate-looking silver instruments that whirred and emitted small puffs of smoke.

The boys couldn't help but wonder how it would feel to smash a few of the instruments with the books- which were so easily in their reach.

Trying not to give in to the temptation, they tucked their antsy hands into their robe pockets. The largest portrait in the room depicted a man, who Fred could only identify, through the vague memory of his Aunt Hermione describing such a portrait, as Armando Dippet, the headmaster before Dumbledore.

And there, sitting in front of the portrait, was the said man- Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore himself. Fred recognized him as the bearded man who had spoken after the Sorting. Dumbledore's hands were folded neatly on his desk, his eyes twinkling in such a way that made the boys wonder if the headmaster knew what they had been thinking about the instruments on the spindly tables.

Seeing the actual man in person made Fred feel slightly faint. Dumbledore wasn't alive in their time. That was it. They really, really were in the past. And that meant many things.

One thing Fred was certain of- George Weasley had been capable of better smiles, fuller laughs. A bitter feeling stirred in the pit of Fred's stomach, as he thought of all the instances his father had worn a fallen expression at the wrong times. When Roxanne said her first word, when Fred had shown that he was destined to be a skillful Chaser, when Roxanne had first walked, George had looked like he was about to cry.

He even had a twin, the thought of whom made Fred feel like he had been hit with a jelly-legs jinx. He was grateful when Dumbledore gestured at them to take a seat.

"Mister Potter, Mister Weasley. Lemon drop?"

James nodded slowly and popped on into his mouth. Fred followed suit. "Headmaster," James started.

"We come from the future," Fred blurted out. James would have choked on his lemon drop if it had still been in his mouth. Fred, who had been the last one to believe, was the first one to admit?

The news didn't seem to faze Dumbledore at all. In fact, he seemed to have been expecting it. "Ah, yes. That had been one of my theories. The thing that is troubling me, however," the headmaster looked at the boys with a cheerful nod, "is the means on how you have happened to stumble into my present, or, we can say, your.. parents' past."

Exchanging a look with Fred, James slowly pulled out the golden locket from his robes. "Fred.. he.. well.."

"We were on the Hogwarts Express," Fred said.

"The- The train lurched forward, and a bloke just fell inside." James tried to mime the action of falling. All that he accomplished was leaning sideways with a silly expression, but Dumbledore nodded as if the demonstration had been valuable information.

"Afterwards, he dropped that very locket?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes. Then Fred here, he picked it up."

"I read the words engraved inside.." Fred looked down, sheepish.

James opened the locket. "Yes, see? Ire adcum scire, that's what he-"

A flash of golden light, and the last thing James heard was Fred calling him an idiot.


	4. Little Harry

_Hello, all! :) I felt wrong since I had been curled up in my bed and reading Artemis Fowl crossovers while I _could _have been finishing up this story. It is, after all, the last day of November on my side of the planet. And I promised this would be updated somewhere around this time.. *guilt* Is Dudley in Smeltings yet, anyway?_

_Do the first few paragraphs confuse you? The first paragraph was James' present thoughts, the next three paragraphs are a sort of flashback or something, the next two are James' thoughts again, and then Fred pulls James away from his thoughts in the next paragraph. :)) Sorry if that's unclear._

_Sorry if this is a little sloppy. I had originally wanted to make the visit quick, almost as short as a filler, but what's the fun in that? XP Heh, I didn't mean for it to get so.. longer._

* * *

Maybe, just maybe, reading out the engraved words on the locket wasn't the smartest thing James could have done. At least, that was what Fred was making very clear to him, what with all the ranting and whinging.

After the ripping sounded in his ear and the flash of blinding golden light, which had somehow been brighter than he had remembered, James had jerked up to his feet and swayed precariously. His left foot ached, because Fred, in shocked anger, had _stomped _on his foot before the light had swallowed them up.

His eyesight had been hazy with hot tears, but if the humid wind that was ruffling up his hair was anything to go by, he figured he wasn't in Dumbledore's cozy office anymore.

After rubbing his burning eyes, James had looked around his surroundings. His sight was still blurred, but had cleared up quite a bit. He was in someone's backyard, complete with a tool shed and a small bench. Fred had then proceeded to scare the wits out of him by tackling him from behind and raving on how it was bad enough that he, Fred, had read the words, but how it was practically idiotic that James had read them again when they both knew what the locket did.

James knew that Fred didn't really care that he had been stupid, really, because James was rash and brazen most of the time. He guessed that Fred was worried and anxious that his father might change into the quiet, reserved person they knew in the future without them there, without them witnessing what happened to the younger, happier version... And also what happened to his twin, Fred.

If that was logically possible, anyways, since they could have been transported to another time again.

"What's worse," Fred said despairingly, pulling James from his thoughts, "We're in some Muggle's backyard and we have no idea where-"

"Muggle's backyard!"

"Yes, James, look around and stare in awe at the gnome-less garden!" Fred said sarcastically, throwing up his arms. "Merlin James, where have you been?"

"But- But then we'd get, arrested, for- what's that called, Freddie? Breaking and entering!" James then widened his eyes as if he had discovered something even more troublesome.

"Fred, why are you even here?"

Fred blinked, a little stung at his tone, even though he shouldn't be talking. He, after all, was being rather biting in his admonishments. "What?"

James did a quick scan of their surroundings, and then nodded in confirmation. "Dumbledore isn't here. Why are you?"

Fred let the fact sink in, his eyes widening. He looked around, and sure enough, there was no Dumbledore. "You're right. Why _isn't_ Dumbledore here?" They pondered over the curious situation for a few seconds. Then Fred suddenly whipped his head at James. "Bloody- James, do you still have the locket?" he demanded.

"Of course I-" James turned pale as he held his hands up in front of him. They stood in stunned silence, Fred staring at James' empty hands in despair. "Oh, Merlin!" James cried. "Fred, look for it!" James said, looking frantically around in the backyard. He must have dropped it, but hopefully he had dropped it _after _they both fell through the light.

Fred was about to answer, which was most likely an angry string of insults directed at James, but fortunately for the black haired boy someone rushed through the backyard gate. Or maybe not so fortunately, since they _were _of course in an alien time and place.

The boys jumped, wands ready, only to falter when they saw the familiar untidy black mop of hair. A boy, six or seven, stood in front of them, obviously too shocked to move. His green eyes, behind his trademark round glasses, were round and confused.

James gripped his wand tightly. _Dad? _he mouthed, his eyebrows scrunched together.

Fred started saying, "Uncle-"

James elbowed him in the ribs, making the other boy glare at him. They both lowered their wands when the scrawny boy in front of them stared at the wands and then at the duo as if they were mental.

"Are you.. Dudley's friends?" The little Harry asked hesitantly, staring at their Hogwarts robes. He bit his lip and didn't ask about their strange uniforms, however, because he had learned from an early age that unnecessary questions would, almost always, lead to disaster. And even then, sometimes _necessary _questions lead to disaster. At least, that was the case in the Dursleys' house.

James opened, then closed his mouth. He repeated that for a few times before puffing up his chest and saying, "No.. kid." At this he grinned. Calling his dad _kid_. "Why'd we be friends with that pig?" He felt thrilled to be able to insult his UncleDudley in front of his father without being scolded. But hey, James couldn't help but feel annoyed whenever he thought of his uncle, and those awkward Christmas visits to the Dursleys that Harry always took their family on didn't help at all.

In fact, little Harry's mouth seemed to twitch upwards in amusement for a few seconds.

Fred grinned too, almost fully recovered from the shock of seeing his brave uncle so small. "Hey," his eyes sparkled mischievously as he leaned in closer to the younger boy(well, older man, if you look at it in another way), "you're Harry, right?"

Harry nodded, wondering how the redhead knew. "I- I am." After a few seconds of nervous fidgeting, Harry raised his small head, gathering courage. "Are you in the game? Are you helping them?" he asked warily, taking a small step backwards.

"Game?"

"They're playing a game. Dudley's gang, I mean." Harry lowered his voice. "It's called 'Harry hunting', and I know that it won't end well."

James thinned his lips. "No. We're not bullies."

To that, the smaller boy somewhat relaxed, adopting a cautious, small smile. "Who are you, then? And.. what are you doing here?"

"Well- I'm James."

"I'm Fred. And.." Fred tried to think of excuses for being in the backyard, none of them sounding remotely close to sane.

"We were looking for something we dropped. You see, we were in the next yard, and suddenly Fred tripped-" Fred stared at his cousin with narrowed eyes at that statement. "-and it flew over the fence and landed over here, somewhere."

Harry nodded, still confused, but not bothering to ask why the boys were in the next yard. He knew the neighbors didn't have kids their age.

"I tripped?" Fred hissed at James through the corner of his mouth.

James smiled brightly at him. "Of course!"

Fred started to respond with a snarky retort, but then he stopped. He suddenly contemplated the joy of pranking his cousin after all this, which brought a serene yet scheming smile to his face. "Hmm."

The black haired boy tried to keep his grin, but whenever Fred got _that_ look on his face, things would most likely take an interesting turn. He mentally braced himself for later.

Harry, meanwhile, looked at James, curious. He didn't say anything, even though it was obvious he wanted to.

"Oh Ha-rry!" someone sang, breaking Fred out of his plotting and James out of his plots to escape Fred's plotting. The boys both jumped, and Harry took a step away from the direction of the voice- inside the house.

"Harry! Come out, wherever you are!"

The little boy widened his eyes, visibly paling. "I'd- I'd better go."

But was too late. A rather large and piggish boy, Dudley Dursely burst from the back door, into the backyard. He was followed by his gang- Gordon, Malcolm, Piers, and Dennis, all of whom looked like they wanted to beat something up with the Smeltings sticks they were holding. Dudley stopped when he saw the two strangley-clothed boys. "Mum said not to bring any freaks over," he sneered.

James muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "overgrown whale of a boy" under his breath while Fred put a hand on his shoulder. Just in case the former decided to attack Dudley.

Harry eyed the beefy boy. "No, she didn't. She thinks I don't have friends."

"Well, isn't that right?" laughed Dennis, one of Dudley's followers.

"You're a loner, you _poor_ dear," grinned Piers, the only scrawny boy in the group behind Harry's cousin. He wagged his Smeltings stick in the air.

Gordon stared at the two boys who were behind Harry. "You know, they both look familiar."

Malcolm looked, too. He scrunched his forehead together. "Hmm. They do, don't they? Must be from our school."

Dennis and Piers glanced at the pair, who were trying to keep glowering, then nodded in agreement.

"You're sad, you know that?" Dudley continued smugly. "All alone in the stairs with the spiders. Dad's going to have a fit when I tell him you brought two weirdos over. You'll be locked up again, without dinner today and maybe even no breakfast tomorrow!" His eyes gleamed.

Harry stared at him. "No. Don't. Aunt Petunia already made me fix the shed instead of eating lunch!" And there wasn't anything to fix, actually, but when Harry tried to tell her she had yelled at him to 'fix it or have biscuits for dinner!'.

"Well isn't that nice." Dudley grinned and hit the shed wall with his stick, making a hole. "Guess you have to fix it again."

Gordon laughed, but then suddenly groaned. "Does this mean Dudley found him first?"

"Uh, duh!" Dudley retorted. "And that means I get to be the one to beat him up. Malcolm, go hold him."

Harry cast a quick look at the backyard gate, which to his chagrin was blocked by Gordon, and then slumped his shoulders in resignation. Malcolm took a step forward.

"No."

Dudley blinked. "Malcolm, did you just-"

"No, he didn't say it, you irritating little twat!" James seethed. He pulled out his wand, aiming it directly at Dudley's forehead. It didn't mean anything to him at the moment that his father was okay with his uncle in the future. This was _now__, _no matter how James looked at it, and right now he was frustrated and angry. How could his father have put up with relatives like Dudley? Judging by the way Fred had dropped his hand from James' shoulder and was staring at the gang leader in disgust, he agreed with the black-haired boy.

Fred vaguely wondered whether the Trace would find them using magic outside of school before taking out his own wand.

Dudley stared hard at their wands for a moment, and then laughed. "What the hell is that? Some kind of twigs?" Something caught his eye next to Dennis' foot. "Dennis," he ordered, looking interested. "Give that thing to me."

Dennis looked around and saw something shiny. He picked it up and handed it to Dudley, who turned it over in his hands.

James and Fred's mouths became dry as they realized what the enemy had just gotten. The locket.

* * *

_I would like to thank BrokenRainbowsShatteredDream s (who had disabled private messaging) for reviewing (THANK YOU!) Also, I would like to thank Guest, for reviewing as well. So kind. ;_;_

_For all those wondering, **Ire adcum scire** is Latin for **'to go, to when, to know'** ...Except **'adcum'** is actually composed of two words- **'ad'** and** 'cum'** are the words that make **"to when"** in the phrase._


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